4th time lucky
by Cootisms
Summary: Burt & Carole bump into eachother 3 times at various moments in their lives, but never really get to know eachother until Kurt introduces them in the Home flashback! Lots of Kurt & Burt interaction too!


3 times Burt Hummel almost got to know Carole Hudson and 1 time he did

1.

"Shh, kiddo, it's OK, you're just going to see the doctor for a check up... She'll make sure you're putting on enough weight and that you're healthy" Burt Hummel intoned, attempting to calm down his little 9 month-old son who was kicking up the mother of all fusses at being in this strange waiting room full of people he didn't know who had the audacity to not be paying attention to him! Burt brought his baby boy closer to his chest and hummed to him gently, in another attempt to calm him. This worked briefly, but then the wailing resumed its former pitch and volume.

"What are we going to do with you, hey, Kurt?" his father questioned, rocking his child in the way his wonderful and sainted (well, she put up with him, so she really should be, he figured) wife Jenny did, which usually worked as a foolproof manner of calming and/or sending their infant off to sleep.

"You'll see Mommy later, OK, kiddo?" Burt continued, trying to offer some reassurance and comfort to his sole offspring who was getting more and more frustrated and redder and redder, not to mention louder and louder with every passing moment. Burt was seriously starting to question his wife's brilliant idea of him and Kurt having some father-son bonding time while she went off with her college girlfriends for a hen weekend at a spa, out of town. She was only a few hours away and totally deserved a break, but Burt really didn't feel like he had a handle on this whole fatherhood malarkey. He undoubtedly adored his son more than life itself, but Jenny made the sleepless nights, the constant feeds and the disgusting diaper changing look so easy, and she was as intuitive and natural as he was lumbering and awkward. He was obviously slightly biased, but he thought his kid was the most gorgeous baby to ever live. Kurt had huge, lively, inquisitive and bright green-blue eyes, a thick thatch of brown hair ( he definitely had his mother's genes, no doubt about it) and a smile that would melt the stoniest of hearts.

The mention of Mommy seemed to push his Kurt over the edge, which was not the intended result. Suddenly, inspiration struck as he remembered those first few weeks after he and Jenny had somehow been allowed to take their tiny baby home. He remembered all the early concerns about Kurt's weight at first, and how he'd nicknamed his boy 'Mr Half of Nothing'. He picked his child up and began walking up and down the paediatrician's waiting room. The movement seemed to soothe his son, so he continued pacing round the room. He caught the eye of a pretty, curvy brunette who was expertly shifting her sleeping (how could anyone sleep through Hurricane Kurt, he wondered?) baby who looked like he/she was several months older than Kurt, if its size was anything to go by. She smiled at him and looked sympathetic to his plight. He grinned back and resumed humming to a now slightly more serene Kurt, using bits of tunes from Jenny's beloved musicals, snatches of Mellencamp, current pop songs and classic rock. However, he appeared to have been lulled into a false sense of security, as his child's screaming resumed after a brief reprieve. Then his nostrils were assailed by an unmistakable stench and he realised that his kid had amazing timing, as they were supposed to see Dr Smith in 5 minutes. He quickly returned to his seat, grabbed the ginormous baby bag that contained everything Kurt could possibly ever need. Once again he wondered at how someone so small could need such ridiculous amounts of stuff, as it just seemed crazy. It was then that he came to the realisation that he had no idea where the baby changing station was here (or if there even *was* one), as their usual practicioner was on a course or on holiday, or something, so he'd had to go to Dr Smith's, on the other side of town. He decided to see if the brunette with the pretty smile would know anything about the existence and/or location of the required facilities. He approached her, admiring her deftness and gentleness as she whispered something to the baby in her arms. Maybe the making parenthood look easy was a mom thing?

"Hey, excuse me?" he started, trying not to startle the woman. "Hi! How can I be of assistance?" the lady replied, smiling again, eyes warm and friendly. "Sorry to bother you, but do you know if there's a changing table round here? It's just I have a bit of an, um, crisis on my hands, quite literally..." Burt trailed off, feeling slightly awkward.

She laughed sympathetically and nodded, apparently familiar with the situation. She said as much and explained that there was indeed a baby changing area, but only in the ladies' bathroom, and it was down past the doctor's office, on the left. Burt thanked her and they exchanged smiles again. Just as he was about to go, Burt heard her speak again. "Aww, what beautiful eyes your little one has". He turned to compliment her on her offspring and they exchanged information about their respective progeny. Burt's eyes nearly popped out of his head when she told him that her boy was a whole 2 months younger than his Kurt but yet appeared to weigh at least twice as much!

"Wasn't she a nice lady, Kurtie-pie? I think if your mommy had met her they'd have become friends today, don't you?" he asked his son as he started changing the as vile as predicted diaper. His son just giggled and clapped in reply.

2.

Shopping for groceries on a Saturday afternoon should be banned, Burt decided. The store was packed to the gills with frenzied shoppers who were practically coming to blows after the last roast chicken/pack of strawberries/frozen pizza. Hmmm, maybe he could find organic pizza, as his 8 year-old son had made the understandable executive decision that organic food was the only stuff he'd eat. Sometimes he felt like his baby (yes, Kurt was still his baby) was 8-going-on-28 as he could be so mature and sensible, and, to be completely honest, he often felt that his kid was the one looking after him, rather than the other way round. With the thought of pizza now firmly entrenched in his mind, he made his way to the Organic aisle where Kurt had decided to go, taking the list with him (so Burt couldn't divert from it and claim candy/chips/microwave dinners were on it, as he'd done on the previous week) and instructing his father to buy "organic *only*, Daddy" fruit and vegetables from the front of the store, which had a selection of produce that his little boy deemed acceptable, alongside the allegedly "pesticide-laden, genetically modified and generally sub-standard offerings". Gosh, his kid's vocabulary was scarily large and he could probably take his verbal (and probably Math too) SATs in the next 5 minutes and score better than Burt had. Scratch that, Kurt could do his SATs in his sleep and standing on his head. Underwater.

He spotted his child standing on tiptoe in the aisle they'd agreed to meet in, attempting to reach a packet of some sort of healthy grain-like substance that was just beyond his reach. Kurt scowled, evidently frustrated at not being tall enough to get the product he'd set his heart on. Burt pushed the trolley closer to his only son and let out an affectionately teasing "Hey, kiddo! Need a boost to get whatever weird and wonderful ingredient you absolutely *have* to have today?". Kurt seemed startled at first, but nodded and giggled (a rather rare sound nowadays, sadly) as his father picked him up under the armpits to the level of the shelf he wanted. Once his kid was down on the ground again, his hair smoothed back into place and the contents of his full to the brim shopping basket had been transferred to Burt's trolley, he glanced at the cereal thing that Kurt had chosen. Great, he didn't even know how to pronounce it, let alone what it was, though this wasn't the first time that had happened. He hated looking ignorant and uncultured in front of his well-read and worldly (but still so innocent) boy. " What's this quin-oh-ah stuff, hey, Kurt?" he questioned, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Kurt just smiled and tried but failed to smother a chortle. "It's pronounced keen-wah, Daddy, and it's a grain, like couscous. You remember what couscous is, right?" Kurt replied, so eager to help out his father who was so completely clueless when it came to culinary matters. Piece of evidence number 1: That chicken that Burt had attempted to cook in that first week without Jenny. Burt nodded, hoping couscous was the stuff they'd had when Kurt had decided they should have a Morrocan-themed evening a few days ago.

"Have we got anything then, kiddo?" he asked, and, once Kurt had checked the list one last time (his perfectionist streak really didn't come from him), he nodded sharply. "You sure?", Burt wondered aloud. Before he could even ask about getting pizza, his boy was looking at him intensely, before declaring that pizza was certainly not on the menu. "Hmm, I think we still need one of these..." Burt mused, before picking up his son and placing him in the trolley, which caused Kurt to burst out laughing and throw his arms round his father's neck. Burt lifted him out and grabbed his child's hand with the one that wasn't steering the trolley. Kurt's tiny paw squeezed back tenderly and they made their way to the checkout.

They joined the shortest queue, which still managed to have at least 10 people in it, including a mother with triplets who were howling for no apparent reason, an old man who was counting out his $70-odd bill in cents, nickels and dimes and didn't seem to have the firmest grip on reality, to say the least, as far as Burt could see. He was interrupted from his interior monologue by his kid elbowing him and whispering about how the lady in the line across from them was wearing double denim (Kurt's tone of voice seriously suggested that this was not a good thing, but Burt wore flannel, hiking boots and baggy, non-brand-name jeans, so what did he know?) and looked like she hadn't had a haircut in "at *least* a decade", and could he go and offer her some timely fashion advice. A firm "no" and a restraining hand on his boy's arm was enough to dissuade him from putting his plan into action. Burt found himself inexplicably drawn to the apparently badly-dressed woman, who seemed to be scolding her son for having put junk food in the trolley. The boy was probably a couple of years older than Kurt, as he was pretty tall and stocky. Possibly the child was even already a pre-teen, maybe a full-blown teenager, which led him to think of a teenage Kurt, which was just frightening. Exciting, but frightening. He sympathised with the boy approaching the next till, as he remembered being that age and being permanantly hungry. He'd definitely have tried to sneak food into the trolley at that age, if he'd ever been grocery shopping with his mother. He tuned back into the mother's speech to her son, that was full of threats to "drop that attitude, right now, young man" if he wanted to go to his best friend's party. The pre-pubescent male got quite upset and corrected his mother on his friend's name, saying he was called Puck ( on the hockey team, perhaps?) rather than the more pedestrian Noah. This sparked another argument and the woman notched up her wrath, threatening grounding and/or no allowance if the offending item wasn't put back in the next 5 seconds. This seemed to get through to the dark-haired boy, who picked up the pizza rolls from the cart and lumbered off to return them to the frozen food aisle. The woman shook her head briefly and gently tapped her hand to her forehead a couple of times, seemingly mimicking bashing her head against a brick wall. Suddenly, she realised she was being scrutinised and shook her head again, laughing to herself this time. She turned to seek out the whereabouts of her source of frustration (ie: her offspring), and, in doing so, caught Burt's eye. She grinned at him, and, apon spotting Kurt seemed to be saying with her eyes that this is what Burt had to look forward to. He smiled in return and wished he could talk to this woman for advice about the seemingly challenging years to come. In the here and now, however, his kid had nuzzled up to him and had slipped his small hand into Burt's. Burt glanced down at his angelic child, squeezed his hand and focused on getting his purchases onto the conveyor belt. He couldn't believe how much this organic stuff cost. Between that and his son's penchant for expensive stuff (his kid's arguments that they were investment pieces,were designed to last for ever and were apparently "timeless" had convinced him, well, the arguments plus those big blue-green eyes that filled with tears and those full lips that formed a pout that was impossible to say no to), he was going to be stony broke before Kurt hit his teens.

3.

Parent-Teacher meetings were always such a complicated thing for Burt. Jenny had only been to the ones up until 2nd grade, and she'd, as usual, made them look easy. She'd understood all the teacher's comments and knew everything that was going on at school, from bake sales to class trips. When she'd been able to, before the dreaded diagnosis, she was usually involved in the planning of said events, and she seemed to know the parents of every kid in the class and remembered everything about not only the kids in Kurt's grade and class, but also all their siblings and relatives!

High School was a completely different kettle of fish though. There were so many teachers, more than he'd had, as Kurt was taking so many A.P. classes ( so like his mother in that respect) and the school seemed so much bigger than it had when he'd been there.

Thankfully, the coffee afterwards was pretty good and there were usually non-organic cookies which he'd binge on, as he wasn't allowed to have the in the house.

He was headed there now, after having listened to various teachers comment on how his son's academic achievements were stellar, but that could he please refrain from correcting them in class (Mme Dupont, the French teacher, had been quite vocal about this, but from what he could tell, his kid spoke better French than she did, so was perfectly entitled to amend her pronunciation and grammar, as far as he was concerned). He was, however, more concerned about his son's alleged "social isolation" which he understood to mean that his kid didn't have any friends. It pained him that his phenomenal & downright special boy wasn't accepted and liked for being himself.

He was heading to the canteen for a well-deserved cup of coffee before driving home, that was for sure. He arrived at his destination and gratefully received the hot beverage that he laced with sugar and cream. He listened to the babble of conversation around him and tuned in to the conversation between two women, who were complaining about their children's lack of scholastic aptitude, that was frustrating, apparently, for the fair-haired tall woman, as her son was apparently pretty smart, but he chose to play Mario Kart instead of applying himself to his homework. She also bemoaned the fact that she had to work 3 jobs to keep herself and her 2 kids afloat, so she wasn't around as much as she'd like. "And Noah's so angry too, I mean, it's understandable, as he doesn't have a father figure on the scene, but sometimes I just get so *frustrated* with him" the blonde continued. Her dark-haired, shorter friend patted her arm sympathetically and nodded in agreement. "I know, between sports, drumming and those awful blowing up zombies computer games, mine drives me insane! I wear he wouldn't do *any* homework if I didn't sit down with him and physically stand over him until he does it. Plus he's so self-conscious that he won't ask for help..." replied the dark-haired lady, sighing. "How are they *ever* going to get into college?" the brunette asked her friend. "I don't know," replied the fair-haired female, "but I have visions of my Noah still living at home, working at the fast food place when he's 30!" she continued. Brown Hair snorted and rubbed her friend's arm again.

Burt had listen to this exchange surrepetitiously and smirked on the inside, as his boy was certainly destined for much bigger things than Lima. Notably, a stage, probably on Broadway, with his name in lights.

1 time he did

Burt had just had his hand slapped away by his son from the plate of deliciously but unfortunately non-organic cookies. Note to self: check all cookies for logos in the future.

He was so glad that his kid had started accompanying him to the Parent-Teacher Nights, as he not only explained all the teachers' comments, but his comebacks were pretty entertaining when he disagreed with one of his educators. His kid: one in a million. The apple of his eye (and the source of his joy, pride & often hilarity) has grabbed hold of him, quite unexpectedly, and is dragging him over to a rather pretty (in a girl-next-door kind of way, rather than Jenny-levels of breath-takingly stunning) brunette wearing a denim jacket-thing and jeans. Kurt proceeds to introduce him to this stranger, saying something about how they're both single parents & both have kids in glee club, before turning his attention to someone or something else. He shakes the woman's hand, telling her his name. She smiles brightly and her brown eyes are full of empathy and warmth. "Hi, I'm Carole!" she bubbles, "and that was your son Kurt, right?" she continues. " My Finnster is always talking about your boy, apparently he has a fantastic voice. I think they did some project together for glee too, a duet or a love song or something? Anyway, I met him when he was over at the house, he was helping Finn pick out clothes to wear to his now-possibly-ex-girlfriend's house for dinner, he was delightful, so polite and witty. Makes a change from mine, who would communicate in grunts if I let him and he doesn't always get sarcasm...", she adds, instinctively feeling comfortable enough with Burt to touch his arm. He flinches very slightly at her feminine touch, not because it's unpleasant, but because it's such a foreign occurrence for him to have a woman initiate physical contact with him. He smiles and thanks her sincerely for being so complimentary about his son. After all, most people just don't get him, which is totally their loss, so this woman must be pretty darn special. He listens to how she talks about her son, who turns out to be a couple of months younger than his, and realises she's a fantastic mother. She mentions her husband, and explains how her husband died in action before Finn was a year old. She chokes up a little as she says his name, but her honesty is refreshing and she's so brave to recount that part of her life. She makes him feel so comfortable and at ease that he manages to tell her of Jen's diagnosis (the Big C word still makes him want to burst into tears) and drastic deterioration towards the end without totally losing it. They talk more, about more mundane stuff, like jobs (she's a nurse, which he can totally understand, as she seems like she's tailor-made for the job), their sons' eating peculiarities (Kurt being Mr Organic & Finn being Mr If-It's-Not-Nailed-Down-I'll-Eat-It, which is quite expensive sometimes), they find out that they were in the same grade at the same time, but Burt was at Mc Kinley while she was at the small, girls' only school that has now closed down. They exchange numbers and arrange to go out for dinner at Breadsticks the following week, if Carole can swap shifts at the hospital or they can go for the Early-bird special before her shift starts. He kisses her on the cheek before he leaves, and he catches Kurt's eye across the room, and his kid proceeds to smile dorkily and give him a thumbs up. He gestures to Kurt to tell him they're leaving, and he makes his way to his side, grinning slightly maniacally. He slides an arm round his small boy's shoulder and squeezes him affectionately by way of thanks of introducing him to this wonderful woman who's stirred up feelings in him he'd forgotten he could have. Glancing at his watch, he surmises that they can definitely make time for a detour. "How about ice-cream at the posh place with the name I can't pronounce, kiddo? I know it's a school night and all, but I think your impressive grades deserve rewarding" he suggests, feeling like he's about to burst with pride at his child's incredible academic record. Kurt suddenly acts like he's a decade younger than his 16 years, practically skipping as he nods enthusiastically.


End file.
